


Malia Tate is a Grotsky Little Biotch

by JKelly



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Movie Fusion, Canon Related, Creeper Peter Hale, Everyone Is Alive, F/M, Folklore, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-27
Updated: 2014-12-27
Packaged: 2018-03-02 22:37:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2828516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JKelly/pseuds/JKelly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I named my penis "The Truth" because some bitches can't handle it." That's the first thing Stiles hears when he pulls up in his Jeep to his new school. Sheriff Stilinski relocated himself and his son to a new town. It's called Beacon Hills, and if Stiles had a dollar for every animal attack that happened there, he'd be able to buy California. ON HIATUS UNTIL JANUARY 2017.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Malia Tate is a Grotsky Little Biotch

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Mean Wolves](https://archiveofourown.org/works/886343) by [WolverineweaponX](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WolverineweaponX/pseuds/WolverineweaponX). 



"Son, you ready for your first day?"

"Ugh...do I have to go?" Stiles said grabbing the coffee off the table.

Sheriff Stilinski sighed. "Stiles."

"Ready to be the new kid nobody knows with the weird foreign name they probably won't be able to pronounce? The hyperactive scrawny weirdo that's only one hundred forty-seven pounds of pale skin and bone? "

"Stiles, it's your first day at this school. Go learn, meet people, make some friends."

"Dad," Stiles sighed as he tried to look at his father with puppy dog eyes.

The Sheriff rolled his. "I'm leaving for work." He looked at Stiles expectantly as he was walking to the door. "GO!" He yelled one last time before slamming the door behind him.

Stiles shook his head and decided he should leave (Papa Stilinski: 1, Stiles: 0) soon or he was going to be late. He got into his Jeep and started driving.

Beacon Hills was the new town that he and his dad moved to. His dad got a job on the police force as the new sheriff. Apparently there had been an uproar in crime -and strangely animal attacks- here lately and more officers were needed. Frankly, it was a great way to get away from the depressing town they came from.

Stiles' thoughts were cut off when he saw a large sign in the grass that read 'Est. 1941 Beacon Hills High School'. He proceeded to park his Jeep.

He stepped out and then back as two guys with lacrosse sticks were throwing a ball to each other.

"Really man?" One guy yelled.

"Yeah. I named my penis The Truth because some bitches can't handle it," the other said laughing as they ran off to another section of the entrance. Stiles was taken aback for a second before he realized that he needed to go.

The school was smaller than his old one but it looked like it had a lot funding. The place was nice. The school had a good number of practice and playing fields. He walked to his class. His first teacher was Argent for health.

He looked around for a second and saw a woman standing in the front. It was probably Argent and Stiles figured he should explain his situation to the teacher.

“Uh, hi. I don't know if anyone told you about me. I'm a new student here. My name is Stiles Stilinski.”

The woman gave him a disdainful look. “Talk to me again and I'll kick your ass.”  
  
Stiles stepped back and noted that he should probably just keep his mouth shut until the actual teacher got here. He heard two girls snickering at him. One was Asian and the other was white with brown hair that was blonde at the ends.

As he walked to the first open desk he saw. “You don't wanna sit there,” the Asian one said quickly. “Danny Mahealani’s boyfriend is gonna sit there.”

“So?” Stiles asked.

“He smells like cheap cologne,” the brown haired one went.  The Asian girl slapped the her on the arm as a boy slid into the chair.  
  
“Hey, baby,” he said to Danny before they started to make out.

Stiles moved quickly to thee next open seat. This one was behind a husky boy in a plaid shirt. The girls shook their heads no.  
  
The brown haired one leaned forward. “He farts a lot.”

Stiles scanned the room frantically in search of somewhere to sit. He saw a place in the back of the classroom, maybe he’d be inconspicuous there. Immediately Stiles started to tap his fingers on the desk and shake his knee impatiently. The restlessness he was feeling wouldn’t allow him to sit still. He got up from his seat so he could go to the bathroom before the bell rang. As he walked to go out all heard was “Good morn-" before he crashed into another person and spilled what he guessed was really hot coffee and a box of something. Everyone in the classroom started laughing.

“Oh God, I'm so sorry,” Stiles started apologizing as he tried to help clean up the coffee with the minimal amount of napkins the person held. He looked at the person more closely. It was a man. He might have been in his late thirties or early forties. He had light blue eyes, stubble, and was wearing a seemingly expensive sweater that was now stained.

“It’s not you, I’m bad luck,” the man said.

"I am so sorry! I didn't see you. Well, I saw you but you know-"

“It’s alright kid." The man pulled off the garment, revealing his (very defined) stomach as a very dapper looking male with a piece of paper walked in. He was looking at him with both shirts up and all the blue eyed man basically had on was...well, his skin. The dapper one cleared his throat to get his attention.

“My t-shirt’s stuck to my sweater isn’t it," Mr. Blue Eyes said as a statement rather than a question. “Fantastic.”

Stiles quickly grabbed and pulled his shirt down so no one could see his skin anymore and moved awkwardly to the side.

“Hello Mr. Argent,” said the dapper guy. He had dark hair perfectly coiffed on his head and there was a lascivious grin on his face.

Something dawned on Stiles. He had spilled coffee on his teacher and managed to attract a creepy man to the scene. Great.

"Do you need something?" Mr. Argent asked the other man.

"Your numbe-"

“Principal Hale. I'm still single and still not going out with you," Mr. Argent snapped as if an entire class wasn't watching him.

“So, how was your summer?”

"My summer was nuts. My wife left. I broke my leg."

Principal Hale laughed at that. “I was resurr-” He stopped and looked at the class and then back at him, “You win,” he said in a manner that was as unsettling as his presence. “Well, I just wanted to let everyone know that we have a new student joining us. He just moved here all the way from Indiana.”

“Welcome,” Mr. Argent grunted. Everyone turned to Stiles, eliciting a sigh from the teenager. He didn’t want any more attention on him.

The principal looked down at the sheet in his hand.  “His name is Greg- Guh-G. Um, Pruh ez my...Stili- Where are you Greg?”

“Stiles!” he interrupted him. “I go by Stiles."

“My apologies. ‘Stiles’?” Principal Hale repeated. “'Stiles'…Stilinski? I'm almost certain that's not a name. Your parents must loathe you.”

“Well welcome Stiles and I hope you like it here at Beacon Hills. Thank you Principal Hale.”

Principal Hale lowered his gaze and stared at Mr. Argent. “Chris. If you need anything or you want to talk to somebody I’m always available.”

Gosh this guy was disturbing.

“Thanks. Maybe some other time when my shirt isn’t see through," Mr. Argent deadpanned.

Principal Hale looked down and licked his lips and then looked up as if realizing he was at work and not his bedroom. Or a brothel. He walked out, making Stiles shudder a little.

Stiles went back to his seat before anything else could happen. The rest of the day was a blur. A stressful, surreal blur. He got in trouble for the most random things. His chemistry teacher yelled at him for asking to use the bathroom pass.

“Don't read ahead!” His English teacher had screamed.  
  
“No green pen! And no food in class either!” His math teacher told him, officially ruining Stiles’ color coding system and aggravating his stomach.

“Quédate en tu asiento asignado!” His Spanish teacher shouted. He didn't’ even know what she had meant by that until someone translated for him. She had really wanted Stiles to stay in his assigned seat.

When he went to lunch, he saw no one he knew and had nowhere to go. He was once again looking for an empty seat, and maybe even a friend, but everyone already settled into their own little factions. Any time he even glanced in the direction of an empty chair, someone put their bag down or something.

“Did you see nipple?” A guy asked his friend.

“It only counts if you saw a nipple,” another guy said. Stiles recognized two of them as the guys he had seen when he drove to the school.

Stiles didn’t have a lot of friends in Indiana, but so far he had none in Beacon Hills. He decided to stop walking around like an idiot and went to eat his lunch in the bathroom.

That first day, Stiles had never been been more relieved to go home in his life. He couldn’t help but feel dejected when he saw that his dad wasn’t there. Sheriff Stilinski was working of course. Stiles exhaled as he walked upstairs to his room. Maybe tomorrow would be better.

* * *

 

Stiles ~~ran~~  walked briskly to health. He didn’t want to spill anything on anyone. He took a seat next to the two girls from yesterday, the Asian one staring at him with wide eyes as he sat down.

“Do you need something?” He asked her.

“What?” She replied.

“I, uh, you keep staring at me.”

“Oh, I wasn’t- I mean I was staring but I didn’t mean to...I guess I meant to but-”

“Is that your natural hair color?” The brown haired girl asked randomly.

Stiles blinked at her. “Yeah.”

“It’s gorgeous.” Before Stiles could respond the girl grabbed his head. Her nails were digging into the side of his scalp. Stiles' had just started to grow out his buzz cut, so there wasn’t much hair for this girl to be pulling. “See, this is the color Kira wants.”

Stiles attempted to pull away from her but her grip was strong. It wasn’t until

The Asian girl-Kira- yanked the other’s hand off of his head. Stiles rubbed the sides of his head tenderly.

“Sorry about Malia. She’s almost too feral to function.”

“Uh yeah, okay. I’m Stiles. Nice to meet you.” He turned to the front, hoping that Mr. Argent would walk in any time now. Suddenly, Stiles felt a tap on his shoulder. He looked over and saw a kid with tan skin, dark brown hair and eyes, that was smiling like he just saw his best friend in the whole world.

“Hey,” he whispered.

“Hey,” Stiles responded halfheartedly.

“I'm Scott, we should hang sometime. I've lived here for pretty long time.”

Stiles didn’t feel any bad vibes about him, but something was off. Why was everyone around here so willing to talk to him? He wasn't going to refuse gaining a friend though. “Sure, why not?”

Scott’s smile got bigger, reminiscent of a puppy. “Sweet, where’s your next class?”

Stiles looked down at his schedule. “Uhhh room two three oh five, chemistry with Harris.”

“Awesome we got the same class. I'll show you where it is. It’s in the back building, so it’s tricky getting there.”

Stiles nodded just as Mr. Argent walked in.

“Oh and one more th-”

“MCCALL, STOP TALKING.”

Stiles rubbed his temples. This was going to be a long day.

 

* * *

  
After class Stiles followed Scott out to the fields. There were three kids sitting on the bleachers. A beautiful strawberry blonde goddess with a sketch pad in her lap sitting close to some perfect boy next door looking guy with a strong jawline. A pale, raven haired girl sat next to the goddess.

“Where’s the back building?” Stiles asked confused about why they were here and not in class.

“Burnt down about 8 years ago,” stated the goddess without taking her eyes off of her sketch pad.

“That’s Lydia and Jackson,” Scott told Stiles with a point. “And this is Allison. Everyone this is Stiles. He’s new here.”

“Hey,” Stiles said with a nervous wave of his fingers.

“You sure know how to pick them McCall,” Jackson sneered like his social life was already going down the drain because of Stiles.

Allison glared at him.“He’s just being Jackson. Come on sit down, stay awhile. You won’t get in trouble. Not for the first time at least.”

Stiles thought as he took a seat next to Allison.

“What is your real name Stiles?” Scott asked. “Principal Hale looked like he couldn’t pronounce it.”

“Grzegorz Przemysław Stilinski,” he answered. The group gave him dumbfounded looks. Stiles looked down.“...Yeah so, that’s why I go by Stiles.”

When he looked back up he saw that Lydia was still writing something on her pad. Out of nowhere she flicked Jackson’s ear.

He sighed loudly. He turned to Stiles. “How do you spell your name again Stills?”

“It’s Stiles. S-T-I-L-E-S.”

“Yeah, I’m gonna call you Stills.”

The previously quiet area they were in started to get louder. People were shouting and laughing with their friends as they started coming outside for what Stiles assumed was gym.  

Finally tearing her eyes away from her drawing or writing, Lydia sighed. Stiles noted that sighing seemed to be something lots of people at this school did constantly. “In the name of all that is holy, would you at Erica’s gym clothes?”

“Of course all of The Leathers are in the same gym class,” Allison spat, crossing her arms.

“Do they ever take those leather jackets off?” Lydia asked. “They’re lucky they won’t die of heatstroke.”

“Who are The Leathers?” Stiles asked confused.

“They’re teen royalty,” Scott told him with a hint of awe in his voice.

“That and your stereotypical angst-y teenagers that act out for attention,” Jackson explained.

Allison nodded. “If Beacon Hills was US Weekly, they would always be on the cover.”

Lydia scoffed. “Maybe the first page.”

“Right sorry. Lydia would be on the cover and they’d be on the first page.”

“Is that all that makes them so special then?” Stiles asked. Jackson just laughed at that. Douche.

Lydia pointed at a muscular, dark skinned guy doing push ups. “That one there, that’s Vernon Boyd.”

“The muscle of the group,” Jackson piped up. Stiles could definitely tell that Boyd could probably break him in half. “He’s one of the dumbest guys you will ever meet. Allison sat next to him in English last year”

“He asked me how to spell orange,” she said.

“That little one, that’s Isaac Lahey,” Lydia started. She pointed to a curly haired guy in a long sleeved shirt, sweats, and strangely a scarf. “He’s-”

“He’s totally rich because he got a bunch of insurance money from his dad’s death,” Scott finished. “Isaac knows everybody’s business. He’s like a male Lydia. He knows everything about everyone.”

“That’s why his scarves are so big,” Allison added. “They’re full of secrets.”

“And evil takes a human form in Erica Reyes. She may look like a conniving bitch but she is so much more than that,” Lydia told with a flip of her hair. “Erica  _acts_ like the queen bee, the star. Like alpha of them. The other two are just her little betas.”

"I hear Boyd's biceps are insured for ten thousand dollars and that Isaac does car commercials. In Japan," Scott said. “And one time Erica punched me in the face. It was kind of awesome!” He grinned a little as if he were riding a roller coaster or won the lottery or something not getting punched in the face by a teenage girl.

“Ever since she had this really bad seizure in gym class, she changed," Allison said. "They all did."

* * *

 

Periods passed on with some of his new “friends” in his classes. Scott and Allison were cool, but Lydia scared him a little bit and Jackson had that whole rich snob thing going on. However, Stiles thought he would learn to be comfortable here.

Lunch rolled around and he found where Scott, Lydia, Jackson, and Allison were sitting and started walking towards them until he was stopped by someone. The boy was the same height as Stiles with blue eyes, spiky brown hair, and a very distinctive head shape. He was holding a camera in his left hand.

"Excuse me, is it alright if I ask you some questions for the newspaper? We're doing weekly surveys of new students, teachers, and faculty."

"Okay?" Stiles replied with a shrug. There was something weird about the guy (Was it his face? It was probably his face), but maybe this interaction could be the start of a new friendship.

"Is your cherry popped? "

"W-what?" Stiles resisted the urge to flail his hands around. And whoa, personal much?

"Would you like us to assign someone to pop your cherry?" The guy asked seriously.

"Um..."

"Is he bothering you?" Said a voice from the table next to him. A female voice to be exact. It was like Stiles was Batman and she was Robin, swooping in to help when he couldn't handle a situation.

Stiles turned around. The girl was holding an apple almost as red as her lipstick. She had curly golden blonde hair, brown eyes framed with blue mascara, and two guys were sitting beside her. They looked a little dangerous. The Leathers, he realized. Boyd, Isaac, and…

"Why are you such a skeez Matt?" The blonde (Emmy? Ellen? Elsa?) snapped at the guy. She took a bite of her apple, which just enhanced her already scary demeanor.

"I'm just being friendly," Matt said unconvincingly.

Isaac twirled the ends of his fringed scarf. "You were supposed to call me," he whispered.

Matt snorted.

The blonde girl fixed her gaze on him. "You don't lead on Isaac at my party three days ago, just to hit on some poor boy right in front of us." Her eyes landed on Stiles, looking him up and down. It made him a little nervous. "Do you want him to have sex with him?"

Stiles stood stiff as a board, but could feel his heartbeat ratchet. "No, thank you." He just got here, he didn't want the fact that he was bi to get out. At least not on the first day. Isaac smirked suddenly like he had just read Stiles' mind. Maybe he really did know everything.

“Good, so it’s settled. You can go shave your back now.” Matt walked away looking a lot less haughty than he had before. Stiles was about to do the same when the blonde girl stopped him.

“Wait, sit down.” He looked at her dubiously. "Seriously," she said. "Sit down." Stiles took the seat quickly.

"I'm Stiles." He was getting nervous again and started tapping his fingers on his tray. He looked over to Scott who stared at Stiles with bewilderment. "And you're Boyd, and you're Isaac, and you're...E-E-Erica! Erica! I knew you weren't a Disney princess." The three teens stared at him before Erica broke the silence.

"Why don't I know you?" She asked looking at Stiles like he was a piece of meat.

"Uh...I'm ah, I'm new."

"New?" Erica repeated.

"Y-yeah. 'New'. As in introduced or discovered for the first time. Ya know, new. New York, New Mexico, New Dehli-"

Her eyes widened. "No, no I know what ‘new’ means I’m not an idiot. Shut up. So have you ever been to California before now?" He shook his head 'no'. "Shut up. Were you home schooled?" Another 'no'. "Shut. Up!"

"I didn't say anything."

"That’s really interesting. And you're like really handsome!" Erica exclaimed with another predatory smile.

"Oh," Stiles stammered, surprised at her sudden change in emotion. "Thanks," he responded slightly taken aback at the statement.

"So you agree?" Stiles furrowed his brow in confusion. "You think you're really handsome? "

"I didn't..."

"Oh my gosh! I love your necklace," she declared reaching her arm across the table to touch the dog tag around his neck. "Where'd you get it?"

"Oh well, when my dad and I lived in Indiana he actually used to be in the military, and I wanted tags like his, so he got me one."

"It's adorable. Like you," Erica said.

Isaac nodded. "Yeah, it's on fleek."

"What is 'on fleek'?" Erica asked looking at Isaac with disdain.

"It's like slang. From Vine. I saw it on the Internet," he explained.

"Wait." Everyone turned to look at Boyd, who hadn't said a word so far. "If you're from Indiana, why aren't you Indian?"

“Oh my goodness, Boyd you can’t just ask people why they're white.”

“I didn't’. I asked why he's not Indian.”

Stiles' eyebrows shot up to his hairline. Was he serious? "Indiana's in Amer-"

"Don't," Isaac said with a shake of his head. Erica sighed and reached for their ears, talking quietly. Stiles couldn't hear them at all, he wondered how they could even hear each other. He looked over to Scott, Allison, Jackson and Lydia - they looked concerned. Soon, The Leathers were staring back at him.

"Alright Stiles this is rare, but starting tomorrow we'd like you to sit with us for the rest of the week," Erica declared. The words were said in a cheerful manner, but her expression made him feel like accepting the invitation was mandatory.

"Uh...okay," Stiles agreed because it didn't seem like he really had a choice.

"Good," The Leathers said in unison.

Stiles started to get up when Boyd said "Oh, and on Tuesday we wear leather boots."

“Great, fantastic. Really...See ya!" He nodded and grabbed his bag before leaving the table.

Stiles’ day just seemed like it was becoming a downward spiral, especially after some - wait, no- THE alpha bitch tried to recruit him for her little team. After lunch he went into the bathroom and Allison, Scott, Lydia, and Jackson were quickly on his heels. They probably wanted know what the hell was going on.

“WHAT WAS THAT ABOUT!?” Scott screamed at him. Stiles jumped back, hitting a stall. He could’ve sworn Scott’s eyes looked like they glowed for a minute.

“What was what about?” Stiles asked feigning ignorance. He really didn't want to deal with this now.

“You know what Stilinski,” Jackson sneered.

"What 'what'?" Stiles went.

"You know what 'what' Stiles!" Scott yelled.

Stiles felt a little barraged at the moment. First he was being introduced to new people, now he was being yelled at and seriously - wouldn’t somebody walk in sooner or later, notice that this was the boys’ bathroom and that Allison and Lydia were clearly not boys?

Lydia sighed. “You and The Leathers, obviously.”

“They asked me to lunch with them.”

“WHAT!?” Scott and Jackson yelled simultaneously. Scott started breathing deeply, something like an asthma attack maybe, until Allison put her hand on his shoulder; it seemed to calm him down.

Stiles stepped back a little bit. "Lunch. You know. That meal typically eaten in the middle of the day in a place like a cafeteria with a bunch of your peers? Lunch."

Allison and Lydia shared a look and then stared back at Stiles. “We could use this to our advantage,” Lydia said.“We could ruin Erica’s life.” Allison, Scott, and Jackson nodded to each other.

“What?” Stiles really wasn’t following here. Clearly there was some kind of animosity between all of them and The Leathers, he just didn’t know how deep it was.

“We have to,” Allison stated as if that were enough explanation in the world.

“Well actually sweetie, he has to,” Lydia said pointing at Stiles.

“Stiles, she’s a life ruiner, she ruins people’s lives,” Scott revealed.

“I think he’s got that part McCall,” Jackson quipped.

Stiles crossed his arms. “You guys seem to really hate her. All of them really. Why?”

The four exchanged more looks.

“Well for one, they’re really mean,” Allison provided.

Jackson smirked.“Erica started this rumor about Scott when she caught him with-”

“JACKSON, CAN WE NOT!” Scott shouted before he could finish the sentence. Seemed like he wanted that secret to go to his grave.

“We just think it would be a…” Lydia paused. “Helpful asset to Beacon Hills if they were all knocked down a peg.”

Stiles still wasn’t on board. He doesn’t just ruin people's lives for the fun of it. He's never ruined anyone's life at all. Not knowingly at least. Plus he was a terrible liar, so Boyd, Erica, and Isaac would catch on quickly, and then they would probably kill him.

Jackson wrinkled his nose. "Stop that Stilinski."

"Stop what?"

"Worrying, it reeks," Jackson replied. Stiles didn't get it. How could worry smell like anything? And seriously, who died and gave Jackson permission to abuse Stiles' last name?

"I think we should tell him," Allison said. "This whole thing will make more sense if we do."

Jackson glared at her. "We just met him."

"Allison's right. I think Stiles can handle it," Scott told Lydia and Jackson. "He's trustworthy."

Lydia folded her arms and tilted her head to look at Stiles. "Maybe."

Stiles scoffed. "Tell me what?"

"Nothing,” Jackson demanded.  

"Something," Lydia countered as she reached up to slap the back of Jackson's head.

"Look. It's kind of weird and you might not believe us," Scott said.

Stiles couldn't take it anymore. "Holy God, just show me - ahhh!!" Stiles leapt back. Staring at him were two hairy things. With no eyebrows. The thing in Scott's place had glowing red eyes and rows and rows of bared fangs. The thing in Jackass' place had bright blue eyes and fangs as well.

"Wha-a...how...wh-"

"Werewolves," Lydia said nonchalantly. Allison nodded.

"Like, like- like howl at the moon, run around in packs, eat rabbits?" Stiles asked incredulously.

"Eat rabbits?" Jackson parroted.

Stiles nodded, his eyes wide like saucers.

"Raw?" Scott asked.

"No. You stop to bake them in little werewolf ovens Scott," Stiles snarked. "Or thing that ate Scott."

Both Jackson and Scott did something weird with their heads making their human features replaced the canine ones.

"Stiles," Scott began. "Everything you've ever heard, like myths and legends about the supernatural is true. Werewolves exist. We have better hearing, sight, strength, and senses of smell."

Stiles nodded again. "Prove it."

"Well, I can smell that bag of Reese's Pieces in your back pocket," Jackson gave.

Stiles shakily put his hand into his jeans. He could feel the crinkled cellophane wrapper that he had hastily tied up.

"There's other stuff too. Banshees," Scott gestured towards Lydia. "Hunters," he said with a pointed look at Allison. "Wendigos, phoenixes, fairies, everything."

Stiles took a deep breath and ran his fingers over his buzzed hair. "Alright. And where exactly do I fit into this?"

"You know how Scott mentioned hunters?" Allison started. "Well, we have a code. We hunt those who hunt us. My dad and I made a new code, but..."

"But, it's kind of hard to implement it when Erica, Isaac, and Boyd are running around each night like feral dogs," Lydia finished.

"So, The Leathers are werewolves too?" Stiles asked.

The other four teens nodded.

"Not to mention there's this new sea creature that our pack has had no luck finding," Jackson added.

"If you can limit the powers of The Leathers by joining their group, we can focus on the sea creature and we can reconcile with them too! It's perfect!" Scott exclaimed with a smile on his face.

"And crazy," Stiles muttered.

"I heard that.” Scott's eyes were pleading. Whatever he was going to say, Stiles would probably agree to. "Look, we have a plan Stiles. But we need you help to make it work. Please?"

“Alright, alright… I’ll spy on them. But uh do you have leather boots I could borrow?”

* * *

His last period was U.S. History with Mr. Yukimura. Nothing was going to screw him up now. Stiles was good at history. Stiles was good at researching, and he found certain facts (e.g. Hitler supposedly having one testicle) interesting, thus making the subject more likable.

He walked to the back looking for an empty seat. He sat in the back of the last row , near a large window. Looking around he could see that none of his friends were in this class with him, which could give him a chance to relax. Stiles just   wanted to go home. He banged his head down on the desk. It was starting to get darker and everything else was slowing fading away from him. Stiles was just about to lose consciousness when-

“Could I borrow a pen?” Someone asked.

Stiles slowly lifted his head up, unable to determine if he should've thanked the person for waking him up and preventing him from getting reprimanded by the teacher or throttle the person for not allowing him to fully fall asleep.

"Uh sure, here," he said pulling one from the pocket of his hoodie. He extended his hand and then froze.

The guy had scruff on his face that made him look older but not sloppy and unkempt. He had really expressive eyebrows. Like emphatic caterpillars. His eyes were a beautiful green hazel color. He had black hair spiked up as if he had just gotten out of bed. Stiles was lost for words for the first time in a long time in his life. Well, since this afternoon at lunch really but still.

"Thanks," the guy said. He took the pen from Stiles and then turned to his notes.

He never really had a crush on anyone before, but it was like they were meant to be together. Like Cupid just shot him with an arrow straight to the heart and allowed him to see his future husband.

“Stiles, what do you think Mao thought of Stalin?" Mr. Yukimura asked.

“So sexy,” Stiles said, oblivious to everything but the boy in front of him.

The sound of laughter interrupted his thoughts. The whole class was cracking up and Mr. Yukimura was looking at him weirdly. "You think Mao Zedong found Joseph Stalin sexy? Would you elaborate on that?"

Stiles could feel a blush creeping up his cheeks. The boy in front of him had turned around, one of his gorgeous eyebrows raised.

"Um, well. Mao got his ideas from the success of the Bolshevik Revolution. Stalin came to power after that. Given that he industrialized and made Russia a superpower, Stalin was clearly successful at one point in time. And everyone knows there's nothing sexier than success," Stiles said with a shrug. "In fact, studies show that numerous authority figures are often closeted homosexuals."

Mr. Yukimura fiddled with his tie and coughed. "Um, Stiles-" he tried. But Stiles continued to ramble for the next fifteen minutes on Russian and Chinese leaders and their possible gay tendencies.

"Okay! Thank you Stiles, for that wonderful interpretation of Mao's views. But the real answer is-"

The ringing of the bell made everyone hop out of their chairs and dash out the door. Stiles was shoving his binder into his bag when something was thrust into his face.

"Thanks again Stiles," he said.

Stiles opened and closed his mouth. Was it hot in here, or was it just him? The boy scrunched up his nose and once again raised an eyebrow.

"You’re welcome, um?" He realized he didn't even know the boy's name.

"Derek." Derek said nothing else before he slung his backpack over his shoulder and left.

* * *

 

Stiles sighed as he slammed his math textbook shut. He would just Google the problems after dinner.

He walked downstairs to the kitchen. He was figuring out what he would cook when he saw his dad sitting at the table reading a large stack of papers. The sheriff looked up. "Hey kiddo."

"Hey dad," Stiles replied taking a seat. "I didn't even hear you come in."

"No problem," he said. "Don't worry about dinner tonight. I ordered a pizza, should be here soon."

Stiles fixed his dad with a look. "I think you pronounced salad wrong."

Sheriff Stilinski fixed his son with an equally unimpressed look. "I ordered one too. I'm a grown man Stiles, I don't need my seventeen year old son to control my diet."

Stiles rolled his eyes. "If that was true every summer you wouldn't have me make vegetarian meals so you could fit into your swim trunks."

Sheriff Stilinski rubbed his temples and swore in Polish. "Moving on. How’s school so far?"

Stiles paused. Did he tell his dad that a group of werewolves were terrorizing the town? That werewolves actually exist? That everything they ever saw on “The Vampire Diaries” was real? That Stiles might have fallen in love?

"Fine," he said with a shrug.

"Just 'fine'?" The sheriff asked dubiously.

"Yeah dad. How was work?"

"We actually found a new development in an animal attack. Apparently people think a dolphin like creature has been-"

Stiles gaped at his father. "Did you say a dolphin?"

Sheriff Stilinski knit his eyebrows together. "Yes."

"I have to go to my room now!" Stiles declared as he ran from the table.

Sheriff Stilinski just stared after his son, when the doorbell rang. He just thanked God for Meat Lover's pizzas and unpredictable teenage boys.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The line: "If you're from Indiana, why aren't you Indian?" was taken from a Todrick Hall video called [Mean Boyz](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hzRf56XbrNA). Also, I know everything seems really obvious right now and is moving quickly but I promise you they're not going to stay that way for long.


End file.
